I Am Not Afraid To Walk This World Alone
by Scribbler95
Summary: Demitria Blake was not always the feisty fireball she's known as today. Once upon a time, Demitria Blake was just a little girl, neglected and forgotten. Before she met Sherlock and John, she was very much alone.


Demitria Blake was born on the 24th August 1981. Her parents had been anticipating a baby with blonde hair and green eyes, like themselves and her siblings. The twins, Aurora and Sebastian, were five. They had been playing in the garden when their daddy told them they were going to meet their sister. The first thing they felt for Demitria was annoyance. Could she not be born when they weren't playing?

Demitria stunned them all.

She lay there in her cot, screaming bloody murder as all young infants tend to do.

She was not blonde, nor were her eyes green.

Her single tuft of cotton-wool like hair was midnight black. When she opened her eyes, in order to see who the new strangers were in the room, they were such a startling blue that they seemed out of place on the face of someone so young. At one day old she seemed to be able to read your very thoughts, just by meeting your eyes.

Even as an infant, Demitria Blake was different. And on the other side of the country was a boy with black hair and silvery blue eyes. He was different too.

Demitria's brother and sister had taken it upon themselves to teach her rude words in the hope that her first word would remove her from her current place as 'attention grabber of the household'. At their age they didn't quite understand why their baby sister could not feed, change and clothe herself. Unfortunately Aurora got a bit too close when insisting that a barely one-year-old Demitria could say 'bum' and the baby grabbed one of her curling blonde ringlets and pulled. Hard.

"Ow! Mummy Demitria's pulling my hair! Help!"

The baby blinked as she listened to her sister shriek. She was set back in her cot and her sister was attended to. She sat by herself, frowning as she forced her tiny lips to mimic her sister.

"Elp."

Unaware of this occurrence, her family continued to believe that she had not yet spoken. Later, they believed her first word to be 'daddy'.

It was Aurora and Sebastian's tenth birthday. A five year old Demitria had steadfastly refused to wear anything even remotely resembling pink and so her mother had settled with a purple pinafore, braiding her ebony hair and sending her off to look cute in front of party goers. After the initial pinching of cheeks and 'aww isn't she sweet' comments Demitria had settled herself in the window seat, watching as her brother and sister sat amongst flocks of adults and children, opening presents wrapped in shiny paper. Demitria wondered why her hair wasn't the same colour as her sister and brother's. The only person she knew with black hair was Granddad. Her sister looked like a princess, hair in ringlets and a pink dress covered in frills. After the excitement of the presents people disbanded to get food or walk in the garden.

"Demitria doesn't your sister look pretty?" Asked her mother, twirling Aurora like a ballerina. Sebastian had gone off to play war with his friends in the bushes by the oak tree. Demitria nodded and smiled. Their mother left and Aurora twirled again, showing off.

"Do you wish you had my dress Demitria?"

Five year old Demitria shook her head. Her sister looked immediately disgruntled.

"Well why not?"

"Don't like pink."

Then her sister called her something she didn't understand before stomping off. Later on, Demitria asked her daddy what the word had meant. He told her that it was a mean word and that she should never ever call anyone it. Ever.

That had been the first time someone had called Demitria Blake a freak.

It wasn't the last.

When Demitria turned seven her life changed forever. She was sat in her bedroom, reading a book about a place called Neverland and a boy who would never grow up. Demitria thought that never growing up would be terrible. She wasn't tall enough to reach the sweet jar yet, and without growing up she never would be! It was raining outside and she trailed her finger down the window pane, following the trail of a raindrop until it reached the bottom. That was when her mummy screamed and began to cry. Demitria had run down stairs, eyes wide. Mummy never cried. There was a man in a uniform in her living room and no daddy. She had thought that this was odd. Daddy was always home by six, telling her that she was special and that one day she would make him even prouder. He always told her brother and sister off for calling her names. But there was no daddy. And mummy was crying.

"Mummy what's wrong?"

She heard her siblings run up behind her.

"Where's daddy?"

Her mummy started crying again and the man in the uniform knelt down in front of her and told her that mummy was upset because daddy wasn't coming home again. Demitria had asked why and the man had said that he was gone.

Demitria, being only seven, had assumed that he was on holiday somewhere and nodded. The man had said that he wanted to talk to mummy and could she go to her room?

Later that day, her brother and sister had told her that daddy wasn't on holiday. Daddy was dead. A man had stabbed him because he wanted daddy's money. Daddy was not going to come home at all.

That night Demitria had cried herself to sleep. She tried to read her book but the words danced form the page. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that she wanted to fly away. She wanted to go and live in Neverland too. Because no one ever stabbed anybody there.

After daddy had gone no one was there to stop Aurora and Sebastian calling Demitria names. Mummy was sad all the time so Demi read books and newspapers.

A boy had drowned in a pool. His name was Carl Powers. Demitria had been reading about it in the paper when her brother and sister had walked up, brand new video camera in hand.

"What you got there freak?" Asked her brother. She glared.

"Miss Sanders told you to stop calling me that." Replied Demitria hotly.

"Well Miss Sanders isn't here to see me do it is she?" He snatched the paper from her hands and read it quickly.

"Drownings? You're not supposed to be reading about those. You're a baby."

"I'm not a baby! Give it back!"

"Make me!" He shouted back. Aurora grinned as she filmed them. Sebastian took a lighter out of his pocket. He had found it on the street and thought it made him look grown up. He flicked the button and held it under the newspaper, watching as it caught alight.

"Stop it! Give it back!" Cried the eight year old girl, blue eyes shining and overflowing with tears.

"What are you going to do baby? Cry to mummy?"

"I am NOT A BABY!" And she launched herself at him, tiny fist making contact with his face and creating a satisfying _crunch_. Aurora had screamed as the scarlet spurted from his nose.

"Mummy! Mummy Demitria hit Sebastian again! And she was reading horrible things!"

Demitria found herself stood in front of her mother, fists clenched as her brother and sister watched through the open door.

"Demitria what have I told you about hitting people?"

"It's wrong mummy."

"Yes, so why did you do it?"

"Because you told me to treat people how they want to be treated, Sebastian was mean to me and so he obviously wanted me to be mean to him."

"Don't twist my words young lady!"

"I'm not -"

"And what is this about reading horrible stories?"

"Well a boy had a fit in a pool and-"

"And it was a terrible accident Demitria."

"But mummy! He wasn't epil-epileptic or anything!"

"Demitria." Her tone was firm now. "Sometimes nasty things happen to people yes. But this was an accident Demitria. Not a murder!

"But mummy!"

"No! I will not have you being so...so...abnormal Demitria! You're eight! Go and apologise to Sebastian."

"I don't want to."

Her mother was very red in the face now.

"Go and apologise!"

"He deserved it!"  
"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

Demitria ran from the room, past her brother and sister and up the stairs. She didn't understand! Bad people had to be punished so why wasn't Sebastian being punished? She decided she wanted to be like the man in the uniform that had told her daddy was gone. He stopped the bad people hurting anyone else. Something had awoken in Demitria that day. She was going to find out why people were bad. And she was going to stop them.

Across the country, the boy with black hair and silvery eyes was still different. He knew something was wrong too. He knew that it wasn't an accident. But no one believed him either.

By the time Demitria was fourteen she was called a freak by lots of people. She was the pale, weird eyed girl who read about criminals when other girls her age were reading romance novels. In fact, she was sat now beneath a tree reading a case study on Jack the Ripper. Her black hair was braided and hung down to almost the backs of her knees.

"Freak!"

She ignored him. He snatched her book from her hands and ran. She chased after him only to find him showing her mother the book in the kitchen.

"Demitria I thought we'd discussed this." Her mother shook her head sadly.

"So what if I want to read it?"

"It's not normal Demitria."

"_I'm _not normal mum!"

"Why not? Why can't you be more like Aurora? She wants to be a teacher!"

"Because I'm not bloody Aurora! I hate teaching!"

"Law?"

"I can't think of anything more boring! I want to study forensics!"

Her mother was looking at her like she was insane.

"No."

"You know what?" Demanded Demitria. "I'm going to study what I want to study and nothing you say is going to stop me! Can I have my book back?"

"I think not."

Demitria had had enough. She ran over to the cutlery drawer and withdrew a pair of scissors. The one thing her mother had always liked about her was her hair, sleek and straight down her back. She was through with her mother telling her not to be who she was. So she was going to become everything her mother didn't want her to be. Starting with her hair. She grasped her plait and at the point where it met her shoulders she cut it off. Grinning as her mother shrieked so loudly her ears throbbed.

From now onwards, Demitria Blake was going to be who she wanted to be.

At eighteen, Demitria was preparing herself for University. She had long ago accepted that her mother wanted next to nothing to do with her learning about forensics or criminology. She had been saving up for years and now, to add insult to injury in her mother's eyes, she was not studying one or the other, she was studying both. Her brother was studying law and her sister was a teacher. Both were, in her mother's eyes, the perfect children. Demitria was the different one, who had driven numerous therapists insane, who had serious anger issues and who was more comfortable with the dead than the living. As she packed her last suitcase into the back of her rental truck and walked over to her mother who stood attempting to look indifferent.

"Bye then."

She looked at her daughter.

"Good bye."

Demitria walked back towards the van, pausing ta the sound of her mother's voice.

"Things could have been so different Demitria."

She nodded.

"Yes they could have. But they're not. I'm sorry I'm not perfect mum. But neither are you."

And she left.

The different girl.

The boy with black hair was not a boy any more. He was a man who had just finished at University himself.

They had yet to meet.

She sat in the library, typing away furiously. She clicked open the page again, eyeing the contents before closing it and continuing.

"Hey there freak, what you doing?"

"What does it look like Brandon? I'm typing."

"About what?"

"How the personal effects of a criminal can show why they commit crimes the way they do."

"You quoting that weirdo again?"

"Which one?" She smirked.

"You know...Sherlock something."

"Sherlock Holmes? Yes I am."

"You're going to fail. The guy's a nutcase."

She turned to glare at him.

"Well I think he's brilliant! Now bugger off before I make you!"

She had a bit of a reputation even at Uni. She was the clever girl who had a temper to rival any force on Earth and one friend, a girl studying law. Her name was Katrina. Even they weren't that close. She didn't care what people thought of her, she was _way _past that point.

Contrary to popular beliefs she did not fail. She got both degrees with distinction. So, one day, she pushed her pride aside and wrote three invites to her graduation ceremony. One for her mother, one for her brother and one for her sister.

She waited with her class, scarlet graduation robes and caps making them look vaguely ridiculous and more than vaguely conspicuous.

"Demitria Blake."  
She marched up the the to the woman who handed her the two framed pieces of paper.

"Degree in Forensics and Degree in Criminology. Well done Miss Blake."

She turned and smiled as was tradition. Her eyes scanning the crowd so quickly it was almost inhuman. They weren't there. Her aunt was, of course, Aunty Jean. Smiling proudly and clapping enthusiastically, dressed in her best clothes for the occasion.

She walked off of the stage and watched, clapping occasionally as the rest of her class received their degrees. Once the ceremony was over, and her aunt had congratulated her at least ten times before having to leave for a doctors appointment – making Demi promise to call first of course - she walked around the corner and called her mother.

"_Hello?"_

"Mum? It's Demi."

"_Oh Demitria. I wasn't expecting a call. What is it?"_

She tried to hide the hurt in her voice.

"I sent you an invite mum. I graduated today and you weren't here! I got two bloody degrees! I worked incredibly hard for ten years of my life and you're _not here!_ Aunty Jean was!"

"Don't curse at me young lady! I'm very happy for you dear but I have to go. Sebastian is coming round with his wife."

"I got a job too if you're interested. St. Bartholomew's hospital in London. Feel free to drop by."

"_Why would I drive all the way up to London just to visit a hospital morgue? Sorry Demitria but I do have to go. Goodbye."_

And the call ended. Demi gave in then, collapsing against the wall and gasping out a breathless question despite the fact that the call was already over.

"Aren't you proud of me mummy?"

Two weeks later Demitria was tired of sleeping on Katrina's sofa. She was soon getting married and Demi just felt like a third wheel. Their friendship wasn't perfect and she was straining it by hanging around. So she left one day to visit her Aunt. That day, her life changed forever.

She finally met the boy – now a man – with black hair and silvery eyes, as well as a doctor with a heart the size of Europe.

That was the day Demitria Blake met Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

And for the first time in a long time, Demitria smiled without acting, laughed without forcing it. She was surrounded by murders and madmen.

She was happy.

**Review!**


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